


Into The Dark (Original DDLB Fiction)

by JasmineStarshine



Category: Bandom
Genre: ABDL, Age Regression, Ageplay, Band, Band Fic, Bandom - Freeform, Bands, Caregiver, Caregiver/little, DDLG, Daddy Kink, Emo, Hurt/Comfort, Little, M/M, cgl, daddy dom, ddlb, emo bands, emo kids, littlespace, rock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2020-08-13 12:44:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20174482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JasmineStarshine/pseuds/JasmineStarshine
Summary: The year is 2009. You're listening to an MP3 of your favorite band on your enV cellphone. Little do you know that the band's bassist has a secret...This is a purely original work set in the golden age of the mid-2000's. If you're part of the CG:L community, love hurt/comfort fiction, and have a soft spot for all things emo, this story is for you!NOTE: No characters or bands are based on real people or groups, and any similarities are purely coincidental.





	1. Foreword

July 29, 2019

This work came from two main sources of inspiration; my little identity and the time I spent in my local punk rock/ alternative scene (as well as being an unreformed emo kid from the mid-2000's). While the events in this story are purely fictitious, many of them are based on first-hand experience.

This is a work I've been meaning to write for a while, but now that I am out of the scene in a high-profile sense, I finally feel safe to sit in the background and write my little tale of daddy doms and the such!

Don't let anything get in the way of chasing your dreams. Music and art ARE worthwhile endeavors, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Without you, the world would be a very dull, monotone place.

Keep dreaming,

Jazzie <3

UPDATE 8/16/19: I put together a little playlist of what a concert of these guys would probably sound like! Be sure to turn on the crossfade option on Spotify and set it to three seconds to hear the intended seamless affect.   
  
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5i8WIhNRX4h5xyGyF2vFLi?si=DIg50KGmT6qR2e3oIDyHjw


	2. Soundcheck

"Guitar, stage left, go."

My name is Jei Evans.

"Gimme some more, Guitar left."

I am twenty-two years old.

"Alright, fabulous. Guitar right, please."

It is July 12th, 2009.

"Drums, go."

My birthday.

"Can you bring my snare up more?"

I am in Liverpool, England.

"Cool, bass now, please."

This is the exercise my therapist taught me to handle my anxiety.

"Bass."

And I am okay.

"Bass?"

And I am okay.

"BASS. YO."

And I am--

"BASS. JEI EVANS, BASS?"

"SHIT, uh, I'm sorry man, uh.."

And just like that, I'm snapped back to reality. Startled, I start pounding out the 'Roundabout' bass line as hard as I can. It's nowhere in our setlist, or even close to our genre, but it's what my father always listened to when I was growing up and the song he said I'd never be able to play.

"Great, thank you Jei. How are your levels?"

That's the sound guy. His name is.... Kyle...? Or something. I don't know. There's a thousand of them and most of them are tools who think they're the stars.

"They're good, thanks. Nailed it, dude."

"I think that's it, everyone else good?"

My bandmates respond one-by-one. First is Kev Slaley, our singer and frontman extraordinaire; too humble for his own good but doesn't show it when he's on stage. Short like me, skinny as a rail like me, swoopy hair like me, but his ass is waaaay better than mine (and my hair is purple, making it better my default, but who's keeping score?)

Rai Stevens calls back next, our crazy rhythm guitarist and my best friend. He's stands a bit taller than me but one look at his arms will tell you what kind of weight class he's in. He'll carry me around on stage as a gag when the moment feels right and if the fans are into it. There's a lot of fanfiction about us.

Offering only a chuff through his monitor is Mikey Gibson, our lead guitarist. Not that "Gibson", but damned if he doesn't claim to be of the dynasty, and his backline would certainly have you fooled. I'm surprised he's able to be... minorly 'rounder' than us with all the heavy vintage shit he plays almost exclusively. I guess when you have the label and sponsor money to make it happen, anything is possible.

"HELL yeah! Let's DO this!"

Ah yes, the moment I've been waiting for; Thomas "Thor" Darron, drummer-god wizard of thunder. Shatterer of cymbals and splitter of sticks. This guy is a damn teddy bear but will destroy anyone who looks at me the wrong way. Six foot one of bear-y goodness.

Together, we are Fight The Good Fight, an emo, pop-punk, whatevercore band from Dayton, OH; the place where we all were born, raised, and left as soon as possible. We were signed to Equilibrium records right out of highschool and put on the road right after graduation. We've got two albums, some singles, a music video or two, a killer Myspace, and a diehard fan base that pays my bills and scares the hell out of me at the same time. Don't get me wrong, I love every single one of them, but if they knew what I was, my career would be over before we even got to the "Greatest Hits" stage of fame.

We file off the stage, making room for the openers to do their soundcheck as a large, warm hand gently grips my shoulder from behind. I flinch and get ready to swing around with the force of a damn comet when a familiar voice soothes my nerves.

"Hey, easy there slugger! What's got you so tense?"

Oh thank goodness, it's just Kent, the best bass tech, roadie, and big brother I could have asked for. With the rest of the band out of sight, I allow myself to rest my head against his pecs and take a deep breath.

"Kent.... bro.... ughhhhh..."

"Yeah? Tell me more."

"KENT. UGHHHHH."

"That bad huh? Wow, rough day, kiddo."

God, I love this boy. Six-four, 250 pounds of muscle, 27, beautiful dark Italian complexion, soft hair (don't ask me how I know), lordy. AND, if my sources are correct, bi. I'm gay, myself, but there's no chance anyone other than Rai is going to be informed of that for a long while. Not at least until gay marriage is legalized in the states, which probably won't happen for a while considering Don't Ask Don't Tell is still sitting on Capitol Hill right now...

But, should that day come, Kent is going to be first on the list of people I tell, because this is a guy I cannot pass up on. He's been with us from the very start and will hopefully be sticking with around until the very last tour. He's been an absolute mentor to me every step of the way, being a bassist from a punk band from Cleveland for a while when I was still in high school. I actually got a chance to see him play when they came through Dayton! He was the guy that inspired me to start playing and is largely the reason why I'm here today. Even though his band never took off, I'm glad I can help him travel the world through music now.

Grabbing my Fender by the neck, he slides it off my shoulders and stows it on my rack by the rest of my gear before ruffling my hair and walking with me back to the green room. It's stuff like this that makes me curse my anxiety. What I would give to be able to just talk about my feelings with him... Rai has been up my ass for a month now, pushing me to make the first move. His words are echoing in my head even now...

"Jei, dude, just talk to him! Do it at the beginning of the tour so you two have three months of jet-setting around Europe before we go back home, rest for a while, and then do it all over again! I won't say anything if you two wanna share a bunk!"

I envy his type-A personality and bluntness.

________________________________________________________

"Hey, Jei! Took you long enough, come on, we need to hear how bad the local openers are tonight. I found their Myspace profiles!"

My name is Kent Dimarcio.

"Yeah, sorry guys, my uh... wireless was acting weird.."

No, not like the brand of pickups; I'm a Seymour Duncan guy.

"Guys, shut up, they're starting!"

I'm 27, from Chicago, I live with my Ma when I'm home in the states.

"Holy shiiiiit, what is that TONE?"

And I love that scrawny little emo kid like my little brother.

"Ay, cool it boys, not everyone can afford Marshalls like you. Don't wanna be the d-bags no-one wants to book!" I sneer sarcastically.

If only he knew...

I've been with these guys since before they could drink, and I can't begin to say how far they have come as people and as musicians. Jei told me that he saw my old band when we played this seedy Dayton dive-bar not too far from the center of the University's campus. That's where his parents wanted to send him and a few of the other guys were thinking of attending, but obviously, their lives took a different path. I don't think Jei's parents will ever forgive him for not going to college, and I largely had to step in to show him the ropes of 'adulting' myself after the exited his life. Poor kid would have never stood a chance otherwise...

I cracked open a beer, figuring with four hours before their set it would be safe to take the edge off, and shifted my attention to the television across the room where Kev and Thomas were squaring off in a heated Guitar Hero match, with Jei sitting behind enjoying the show. I will always appreciate these kids and how simple their tour rider is. No girls, no expensive liquor, no drugs, just a Playstation, pizza, a couple beers for the crew, couches to sleep on, and snacks; it's almost adorable how innocent they are by comparison to their contemporaries in the genre.

The other techs and I worry like we're damn parents. We're not that much older than the band, but there's so much nasty stuff in their scene... creepy rock stars, coke, free-flowing booze, shady label guys, crazed fans stealing gear... it really makes me appreciate their approach to music. If the worst thing us crew members need to do is make sure they wake up on damn time, then this is the easiest gig of our lives!

It's not just that I'm thankful for though; I'm beyond glad to get to spend so much time with Jei. Technically he is my boss, but he's also a cute little emo twink boy with femmy tendencies (exactly my type). Beyond the external appearance though, he's one of the most soft, gentle, genuine people I've ever met. So caring, so generous, but oh so painfully shy, poor thing. I've fallen for this boy and Rai told me the feeling is mutual, but I honestly think it would be better for him to make the first move. Maybe it's some fatherly instinct in me that wants to see him grow and face his fears, but the flip-side of that impulse makes me want to protect and guide him through life. I'm too young for this...

"CLIFF." I call across the room to Rai's tech, beckoning him over. We go back a loooong way; he's one of the first friends I made when I moved to Cleveland for college. It's fitting Jei and Rai are so close, given the longstanding bromance Cliff and I have going on.

"Sup buddy?" he responds, giving me our signature high-five handshake as he approaches.

In a hushed tone I mutter, "What the hell is that sound up there? What kind of rig are these openers running? Like, I don't want to set a bad example for the boys by gossiping, but shit dude..."

Cliff quickly stifled a harsh snort before covering his mouth before uttering two words.

"Solid States."

"No..." I object.

"Line 6 Spider heads." he shoots back.

"NO."

"Yeah. Not the combos at least?"

I bury my face in my hands and accept my tinny, harsh sounding fate.

"Just four more hours, you can survive this, Kent." Cliff says, patting me on the shoulder on his way back for a second beer.

I dug out my iPod and stuffed the headphones in my ears after spending a minute untangling and hitting shuffle a couple of times, hoping to drown out the shenanigans going on around me. Four more hours indeed till I get to see my Jei play again...


	3. Nowhere to Hide

_ **Jei's point of view** _

"Thank you! Goodnight!"

Stage center's mic was launched into the air before crashing back down in perfect time with the final, heroic downbeat; the "Big Rock Ending" as it was called. I made haste off the stage and practically threw my guitar into Kent's hands. While I was anxious to get to the bathroom and out of these sweaty clothes, I was honestly more excited to hurry over to the merch line and sign some posters, CDs, arms, or whatever else they wanted to throw at me tonight.

Tonight went off without a hitch. The openers were actually nice, the crowd was super involved, and most importantly, we slayed our set. It always feels like a personal victory when we're able to execute our setlist without any issues because these kids came out to see a good show and I always want them to get their money's worth. Granted, Rai, Kev, and Thomas are the gods of stage presence in comparison to myself, I still want to walk off at the end of the night feeling like have nothing left to give.

Back in the green room, I flop on one of the couches dramatically and immediately begin stripping as fast as possible, enjoying the air conditioning in my boxer-briefs as the rest of the guys follow suit.

Just as we're getting comfortable, a booming voice breaks the tranquility of the moment. Clark, our balding, middle age manager busts into the green room while trying to shut the door on the backstage pass holders.

"GOOD shit boys! That's what I'm talking about!" he announces, clapping once for emphasis. This man is basically like our coach, and it's moments like these that remind me of that...

"Get yourselves fixed up in two minutes and get upstairs for merch, got it? These kids brought their PARENTS, and Equilibrium is gonna want that parent money!"

We let out a collective groan.

As Clark leaves again, we could hear him calling out "Payday, fellas!" to us.

Rai hobbles over to me, a sweaty mess himself, and flops on the couch about an inch away from my head.

"Ughhh, watch your spray, Shamu! I'm laying in your splash zone."

"Ha! Sorry, Jei; just my way of coming on to you!" Rai replied with a sly grin and a wink.

"Yeah, Rai-bread?" I ask as I reach up to give him a nipple-twister, "Is that so, hun?"

Rai gives me a playful punch in the gut as we both chuckle. We're both fully aware of how the fans like to pair us up in their minds, so it's become one of the band's go-to in-jokes.

Looking over, I couldn't help but notice Kent leaning against the far wall with Cliff of the room peering in our direction as we were roughhousing. They seemed to be minding their own business, but I thought I caught the two of them peeking over at us before whispering and laughing to themselves.

"What's up? Are our music-dads being dads again?" Rai asked, standing up and walking towards his bag for a clean shirt.

"Looks like it..." I replied.

The word 'dad' just stuck in my head even though I tried to brush it off. Just one syllable off from 'daddy'... so close, yet so far; all I truly wanted in life if I was being honest with myself. I kept many more secrets than just my orientation that are far more damaging than my love of bottoming. I'm single, and like many other singles, I want a boyfriend of my own. Seems simple enough, but... let's just say I have requirements.

I'm a Little, someone who enjoys age regression as a form of self-expression, therapy, comfort, security, you name it. It's a non-sexual thing for me, but damn if moaning "Daddy..." isn't a huge turn-on. For me to consider someone boyfriend-material, there has to be this certain energy to them. They have to give off daddy-vibes; a caring, protective demeanor who guides and protects the Little they adopt.

That's what I saw when I looked at Kent; strong arms to pick me up with, a grizzly 5 o' clock shadow, a big-and-tall frame to make me feel tinier than I already am, ugh. Perfect. More important than his looks was how he treated me. When he spoke to me, he used a more gentle tone and bent down to meet me at my level. When he did maintenance on my rig, he took the time to patiently walk me through the changes. When my anxiety would start to act up, he always seemed to notice and pull me aside. That's what made him a certified Daddy in my eyes, he not only cared for me, but took care of me as well.

There is a huge difference between a boyfriend and a Daddy though, and I could just be misreading things. Both are super caring, but only one would be willing to tend to my... other needs. Saying "goodnight" to your partner is a lot different from being read a bedtime story, and given the specific age range of my Littlespace, probably much more than just that...

If I was to just open up to Kent, and say "Hey, uh, I'm in love with you. But wait there's more; I also pretend to be two years old to help my depression and can you please adopt me?"

I shuddered at the thought of laying my feelings out on the table for him, but more-so at the idea of showing him my 'stash'.

All the big bands touring around have massive stacks of amps on stage to add to the 'larger-than-life' image, and Fight The Good Fight was no exception. We all had our "dummy cabs" on the stage that were nothing more than the wooden shells of amplifier cabinets with the speakers taken out, while the real signal was processed backstage in our "isolation cabs". Many groups will stow their personal belongings in these to prevent theft from smaller venues and we did this in the early days before we had a crew or a 'backstage' at all.

This is where I hide my... stuff while on tour. There are some things that are easy to explain that didn't make it in there, like the my pastel pink blankie and snow leopard stuffie in my bunk, as everyone had some memento from home in their area on the bus. Being openly effeminate also helped explain to others why I have an affinity for the softer things in life. The things I did stash in there however were much more embarrassing and career-ending in nature.

Among them were a couple of pacis, my sippy, and a pack of diapers just incase i was feeling particularly down. I've been into all this for as long as I can remember, but I wasn't able to start experimenting until I was a teenager. Had it not been for my pacis, I'd probably still be self-harming and not exactly setting the best example for the fans.

The diapers are something I only recently started exploring, as a couple of super-niche companies have started producing them in adult sizes with more child-like designs. It's nice because I can wear and not feel like I'm in the hospital, but on the other hand there is NO mistaking them for what they're for. I have to be super careful with these. Even though I don't do anything in them past wetting, there's not a super easy way to ditch them or mask the smell in my bunk; and that's not even mentioning the damn crinkling...

It's rare I need these items to help me get into what I call my 'littlespace', but when I do it's because of overwhelming stress, and bad depression flare up, or something of the same ilk. As nice as they are, what I really wish is that I was in a position to enjoy them freely and also have someone to give them to me when I needed them... Sadly, that's a bit beyond the scope of our manager's duties... and mental bandwidth.

"Jei? You okay?" Rai asks, interrupting my thoughts.

"Huh..? Oh, yeah, I'm good man." I stutter in response.

"Good, thought I lost you in the void for a second there! Ready to go make some kids' days?"

"You know it!" I reply, slyly, as Rai helps pull my lazy ass off the couch to sign some posters.


	4. Breakfast

_ **Kent's point of view** _

"I can see it."

"Yeah, Cliff?"

"Yeah, Kent. I can. I totally get all those internet stories about them."

We both take a glance at our boys as they take turns slapping each other around playfully. The specific dynamic Cliff and I have with them is so sweet it makes me teeth rot. We, two seasoned, battered, veteran punk rockers are the mentors and stand-in protective parents for these young kids running head-first into the slimy, seedy, scary music industry. Watching them just enjoy the fleeting moments of young adulthood before the end of their development really makes me realize why normies want to have kids in the first place. I just want to protect them and keep them in this perfect innocent state for as long as I can... Jei especially.

"You ever read any of them" I ask.

"Totally. Most of the crew has, if I'm being honest. It's _The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows _and doesn't really bring up. We just accept it and move on" he responds with a nervous chuckle. 

"_Veeery _clever, Jesse Lacey. I guess it wasn't until I read them I said _Okay, I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Don't._"

We both snicker at our awful puns, realizing that even in our late twenties, we still easily fit into what the media called 'emo kids'. The band absolutely fit this mould and their fans followed suit, but I haven't seen many of us roadies in the background adopt the fashion, just the attitude mostly.

As the group got all fixed up for their meet-and-greet session, Cliff and I slid into their places on the couch as the door shut behind them. My day was nowhere near over yet, as I still had to pack up Jei's bass rig and help strike the stage, but I allowed myself this moment of respite.

Pulling the strings of my hoodie taught to block out the fluorescent lights, I sat enjoying the silence, still thinking about the fans, their stories, their feelings... and I can't but feel _jealous..._? Is that what this feeling is? Anger, maybe? Anger plus jealous? Who knows...

Clearly, I had no problem with the notion of Jei getting paired up with another boy, neither of us being exactly straight, but I guess I'm taking issue with _who_ he's getting paired up with. Not just his bandmates, the fans, or literally anyone in particular; I guess I have a problem with him getting paired up with anyone but _me_. 

I shove this uncomfortable thought out of my head, as I feel it might be the beginning stages of possessiveness; not exactly a good look. Even more-so, I expel the terrible thoughts of Jei falling for someone who wouldn't treat him the way he needed to be treated, who wouldn't take the time to understand his intricacies, who would hurt him...

I doze off, thinking at least an hour could be good for me. Strike isn't technically for a little while and Jei's rig is light enough to tear it all down in no time at all. Time to get everything off my mind...

** _____________________________________________________ **

_"Hey..? Hey, are you awake?"_

I hear a muffled voice speaking to me. My body feels like it weighs at least a thousand pounds in this sleepy haze.

"Huh...? What? Who's there?" I ask into the cloudy void.

I hear a childlike giggle.

_"It's me, silly! Who else would it be?"_

I force myself to sit upright as the fog begins to clear. Before me is a newspaper full of gibberish text that I just can't decipher. I look around briefly to see a table with a coffee mug to my right, and a plate of toast and scrambled eggs to my left.

"Ah, right. I'm sorry, kiddo. Must've dosed off."

Another juvenile laugh. This time it's starting to sound familiar. All I can think of is how I still need to get my tie all situated and still pull into work on time, while getting this squirt ready for the day.

_"You're so silly, daddy!"_

"No, you!" I retort, playfully.

Ah, yes. I remember now! This is my place, my job, my kid, my life. This is all I know and will ever live until I retire in another twenty years or so. It doesn't look like my partner is present... maybe he left for the gym already? Somehow, I can't seem to shake the feeling that this isn't right, but a glance at my degrees on the wall tell me otherwise.

"What are you doing in school today, kiddo?"

_"Teacher is learning us musics today!" I hear a small voice announce excitedly._

"Your teacher is _teaching_ you _music_ today, you say?"

_"Mhmm!" _

"And are you still dry, mister?"

A long pause falls betwixt us before I hear a sheepish _"I dunno..."_

"Rough night, sounds like, kiddo?"

_"Yeah..."_

I fold my paper down and begin to stand up, taking my now empty plate with me to the sink. As I start to turn around, I say "Well then, let's get you all--"

What the hell...?

Staring back at me is... Jei? Not even a kid Jei, just straight-up 'adult' _Jei _sitting at the table with his food on one of those divider plates you give to little kids and a sippy cup.

_"Daddy? What's wrong?"_

I drop the plate on the floor, sharp chunks splintering across the linoleum. My mouth falls open as I simply stare at my friend, my mentee, my... boss.

_"Da......daddy...?"_

I look down again and find myself in the clothes I fell asleep in, laying on the couch I stretched out on, and Cliff jostling my shoulders as I feel like I'm being violently pulled from my dream.

"Dude, DUDE? You okay, man?"

"WHAT, what... what...?" I sputter, inhaling sharply.

"Kent, you were twitching around and chuffing pretty bad in your sleep. Is everything cool? Bad dream?"

"Yeah... yeah... Just a... yeah, a bad dream."

"Had me worried, asshole!" Cliff replies, chuckling and rustling my hair and walking towards the door.

I check my watch to see if it's time to load up; it was almost exactly an hour, hell yeah. What the hell was with that dream though? Why was Jei... why was I... with the plate, and the sippy cup, and the... diaper...? And the "Daddy"? 

I shake away the thoughts as I rub the sleep crusties out of my eyes. Time to get back to work before I _actually_ call it a night. Loosening the ties on my hoodie, I remove the hood as I re-enter my 'work mode', strutting out onto the stage as the rest of the crew is working on striking the gear.

I always work with the lightest stuff first and save the heaviest for last when I can usually get an extra hand if I need it. I load up Jei's basses, his rack unit, his pedals, and my workbench into the bus's cargo bay. The only thing left are the Twin Behemoths... his two 8x10 bass amp cabinets. 

"Hey K, we're all done over here. You need any help before we turn in?" Cliff calls from the other side of the stage near the loading door.

"Nah, I got it! Just leave the doors open for me!" I respond.

Okay. Plant my feet on the ground at should width, bend my knees, take a firm hold and... LIFT. I get one cab hoisted up enough to scurry to the bus and practically heave it in; just one left before I can crash, let's do this.

Returning to the now empty stage (save for the drum riser the last cab was pushed up against), I latch onto the handles and start to bend down when I hear something jostling around in the shell. I set it back down, perhaps a little rougher than I should, and as soon as the cabinet connects with the ground, a one-foot by one-foot section of the back's wood falls out, spilling all of the... oh no... 

I hastily try to jam all of this back into the cab as I whip my head around, checking if anyone noticed. Only one soul bore witness to my discovery, fortunately.

Unfortunately however, it was Jei.


	5. Not a Fashion Statement

** _Jei’s Point of View_ **

My iPod slips out of my hand, clattering to the floor as it rips the headphones out of my ears. The music stops, my heart stops, and Kent stops to stare at me in horror.

I see nothing but panic on his face; his normally dark complexion fades to paper-white. He found me out, and he was _ashamed._

“I…”

Kent stuffs all of my… _things_ back into the cab, slams it shut, and stands in front of it, protecting it all from sight.

“Jei, I… I’m so sorry. I—“

Hot tears stream down my face as I take a step back, still looking Kent right in the eyes. My mouth still hanging agape, I throw my hood over my head and make a beeline for the bus.

I want my bunk. I want to lock the curtain closed. I want my blankie…. I want…

I want…

I throw the bus door open and charge in. It looks like the only one in here was Rai, the others must still been wrapping up the meet-and-greet.

“Woooah, Jei-man, what’s wr—“

I dash past him through the living quarters and start yanking on the door to the bunk room in a panic. It’s locked, and now Rai is approaching me… This is way too much.

“Hey… Jei… What’s going—“

“DON’T….! Touch me…” I cry out as Rai puts his hand on my shoulder. I immediately crumble to the floor, a full-blown panic attack now setting in. I can’t do this.

“Woah, I uh… I’m sorry man. Do you, uh.. need some time?”

I curl up into a fetal position against the door and whimper back “I’m s-sorry… I just need to get to my bunk.”

“Right, right… the driver locks it up when we’re not in there. Lemme grab the keys from the front.”

Rai returns and lets me in, offering me a hand back up.

“Jei? If you need to talk, you know I’m here. If you don’t want to talk, I can make myself distant. Okay, dude?”

“T-thank you Rai…”

I give Rai a long hug before disappearing into the dark room, shutting the door behind me. Finally, I’m safe… I climb down into my bottom bunk, zip and lock the curtain, strip off my clothes, and… weep.

I bury my face into my blankie to stifle my cries, but I can only imagine how loud my sniffs and coughs are. I need to get a hold of myself, like, right the hell now. This is obscene. I should have never brought those on the tour, I should have never started experimenting, I…

I SHOULDN’T BE SUCH A DAMN FREAK!

I throw my blankie off of me and kick my stuffie down to the edge of my bunk. I desperately plunge my hand into the crevice between the bunk and the wall, retrieving my old friend…

“I’m not coping like a damn freak anymore…” I whisper to myself in the darkness of my bunk.

I slide the blade open, the cold steel reflecting the lone glow of my phone.

“This is for everything, you fucking freakshow.”

A line. And another line. Then another. And another. Four fresh wounds on my left tricep begin slowly flowing, the pain barely even registering at the moment. This will do fine… At least I’m feeling stable now.

I reach down again and pull out a small first aid kit I have stocked with cotton swabs and hydrogen peroxide. Applying a freezing, stinging application, I push down hard enough to stop the bleeding and gauze-wrap up all of my handiwork.

I give it a couple of guilt-smacks so I can remember the gravity of my mistake. Kent is never going to look at me the same way ever again. If he wasn’t on my direct payroll, he’d leave the tour this second. Regardless, I’ll probably need to find a new bass tech as soon as we get home.

What’s worse though is he’ll NEVER be able to see me as a potential romantic partner now. A fresh set of tears find my eyes as I lay staring at the top of my bunk. I allow my right hand to idly fidget with my knife, the urge to make my right arm match my left growing.

How could I be so stupid? Somehow, I had convinced myself that if I ‘needed’ anything, I could just go grab it from my cab and everything would fine, right? I was a dumbass to have thought that, and even more-so to think I needed to rely on fucking baby stuff to keep me stable. I can’t believe I allowed my therapist to convince me otherwise…

I want more than anything to reach down and grab my blankie to wrap up in, holding my snow leopard to my chest and never letting him go. I want it. I ne—…….

I…

Why am I this way.


	6. At Least Pretend You Didn't Want To Get Caught

** _Kent’s Point of View_ **

Jei… I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

Nothing has ever hurt more in my life than seeing the kid I see as my adoptive little brother backing up in fear and running away from me. All I want to do is be there for him… All I want is to hold him and let him cry it out in my arms…

I slide down the amp stack to the floor, my hand finding my forehead. I’m sweating, but I feel dead cold… On the other side of this wooden panel is Jei’s biggest secret in the world, and my dumbass just exposed him. What would have happened when it wasn’t just me on the stage? What if there were label suits, or his bandmates, or fans? I could have potentially ended his career. 

I’m not sure if I can approach him right now, not after scaring him like I did… I know I want to, but it’s a matter of willpower. I want to be able to tell him that it’s okay and that I want to listen and understand. I mean… sure it’s weird and I don’t get it, but this is probably just his kink, right? Let’s be honest, if this is his fetish, there’s way worse stuff out there. This I can handle just fine.

I stand myself back up and begin loading up the bass rig, allowing myself time to come up with what I could possibly say to Jei. Maybe it’s too soon, but damn if I’m not worried about him… I love him enough to know how fragile he is, and I’m afraid this experience could have broken him. He needs SOMEONE, and I want to be that person for him. If I already didn’t feel like a dad before, with this discovery, I certainly and starting to get there…

With the last of Jei’s stack stored away from travel, I check the stage one last time to find his iPod sitting on the ground. He probably dropped it when he ran… Through the headphones, I can still hear music playing. I click the center button to see what the last thing he was listening to before he ran off was, as it’s usually a good indicator of his mood. To my horror, I see “Okay I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Don’t”.

I start walking briskly back to the bus, stripping my sweaty shirt in the process, allowing the cool night’s breeze to wick away the moisture. Rapping twice on the door I’m greeted by a solemn Rai. I ascend the stairs and look around for Jei to no luck.

“He’s in the bunks… He came in seriously messed up over something. Do you think you could talk to him for me, Kent?”

“Yeah… let me take care of this. Thank you, Rai.” I respond, ruffling his hair as I make my way back.

I slowly open the door, not wanting to startle Jei as I can already hear him sniffling quietly in his bunk. I softly close the door before I address him, trying to avoid over-stimulation.

“Hey kiddo, you, uh… dropped your iPod back there. Brought it back for you!”

The sniffling ceases, and I can hear rustling. Then an open hand pops out from under the curtain. I drop it into his little hand and all I can do is pray that he won’t drown me out with music.

“Do you… wanna chat? Because I wanted to just… I don’t know… let you know that I’m not phased at all by what happened.”

More silence. I hear Jei unlatch the lock and slowly open the curtain. The kid’s a mess.

“Oh, kiddo…” I stammer as he pulls the sleeves of his sweatshirt down. It looks like he had it off but threw it back on in a hurry.

I take a seat in front of him in the aisle, bringing myself down to his level. 

“If you’re worried about scaring me off, I don’t think you could ever do that, Jei. Honestly, I’m more curious than anything because I know what you’re doing isn’t bad.”

“I… You mean it?”

“I do, Jei. I’m safe to open up to.”

“And you’re not going to tell… anyone?”

“Not a soul. Not even Mama DiMarcio!”

He pauses for a second, considering his options. Eventually, he starts.

“Well… I guess I was really worried you’d quit being my tech… or even my friend?” 

I give him a look before allowing him to continue.

“I know, I know; it’s silly… I guess, uh… I don’t know. What do you want to know?”

“I only want to know what you want to tell me” I answer, reassuringly. I figure this is a good growth opportunity, so I want to challenge him to offer up information freely instead of being prompted.

I shrug before a pause, and he begins again.

“Um… So there’s this community called ‘Littles?’ I found it online and it just really resonated with me. The idea is to allow yourself to feel younger than you are, and it’s great for stress, trauma, anything really.”

“Okay… I can understand that! So that’s what all the stuff is for? To help you feel younger?”

Jei started blushing harder than I had ever seen in my time knowing him.

“Well uh…”

“Take your time.” I say as Jei allows me to gently hold his head in my right hand. He closes his eyes and nestles into my palm. I’ve never appreciated just how small and frail this boy is…

Looking back to me with massive, unintentional puppy-eyes, he continues. 

“Well, I guess the elephant in the room would be… my diapers. I sometimes have trouble at night, even in my twenties. Beyond that though, I wear them because they’re really soft and cute and make me feel tiny and innocent, really…”

“That makes total sense, and I had no idea. Thank you for trusting me with that.” I respond, softly rubbing his forehead with my thumb. He seems much more at ease now.

“Then there’s my… pacis.”

“That’s what you call ‘em, huh?” I ask slyly, tapping him gently twice with my index finger, resulting in a fresh blush.

“Kennnnnt”, he whines. “And yeah… they’re really comforting and they help me stay clean from, uh… cutting.”

“I see…” 

“Yeah… I’ve always had a bit of an oral fixation, and I since I’ve really always felt this way, being little I mean… I just figured they were better than cigs. You know?”

“Huh, I can get down with that! What do you mean by ‘always felt this way’ though?”

“I don’t know… I guess I never stopped feeling like I needed my childhood comforts.”

He pulls up an old, well-loved looking fleece blanket and a snow leopard stuffed animal.

“Like, these are a good example. This is my blankie and my stuffie!” he exclaims, sounding legitimately at ease now. Thank goodness.

“Yeah? They’re super cute, kiddo! Do they have names?”

Holding up the plush toy, Jei explained “This is Walter, the snow leopard, and my blankie is just named Blankie.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Walter!” I replied, using my free hand to shake the toy’s tiny paw, causing Jei to let out a small ’squee!’ of excitement and nuzzle his precious, little face into my hand.

“Thank you for showing me all of this, Jei. Your trust in me means… more than I could ever say.”

Jei looks at me again and gave me the sweetest, most innocent smile I’ve ever seen a human muster. 

“And thank you for not thinking I’m sick” He said, a happy-tear or two falling down his face.

“I want you to tell me what you need from me. You can ask anything, I just want to support you, Jei. I want it more than anything, but I think it is important that you ask for it.”

Looking away, Jei went silent for a moment before responding.

“…Anything?”

“Anything.”

“I mean… I’ve been able to get the supplies and toys I wanted, but I’ve never had the privacy to enjoy them properly or someone to share them with. Not like another Little, but… the other side of the equation.”

“What do you mean, sweetie?”

Jei sighed deeply, as if preparing.

“The opposite of a Little is called a Big. They take roles like Mommy, Daddy, Caregiver, big sibling, or anything to help take care of their Little. It’s like if I had a boyfriend who checked my bed in the morning, tucked me in at night, could carry or hold me when I needed comfort, that sort of stuff.”

“And you’ve never had that experience? No one to take care of you when you feel Little?”

“Never…”

I sat up straight, retracting my hand from under Jade’s head.

“Mind if I slide in there with you?”

“I… uh… sure?”

“Great, thanks.” I reply as I slip through the curtain and zip it shut behind me.

“W-what are you doing, Kent?”

“What you should have had access to a long time ago, kiddo.”

I laid on my side and drew Jei into the tightest hug I could muster, holding him to my chest and letting him listen to my heartbeat. 

“K…..Kent…”

“I’m not allowing you to feel alone anymore.”

“What… do you mean?”

“Jei… I’ve been crushing on you for a long while now. Longer than I’d like to admit. I’ve always seen you like a little brother; someone to mentor and guide along his path. But now I see you as more than that.”

“…Yeah…?”

“Forgive me if I’m not using the terminology correctly, but Jei, I want to be your boyfriend _and _your Daddy.”


	7. Silver and Cold

Jei’s Point of View

The snow outside my window was falling silently upon a sleeping Cleveland and I lounged in the window seat of my downtown highrise, a trendy converted industrial building with more modern amenities than the surrounding suburbs could offer and three times the rent. 

In nigh but a few minutes, my boyfriend will come out of the freight elevator, knock on my door, and get ready for a fun night out together. Though it was close to midnight, I had called Kent a few moments ago in a bout of loneliness. With any luck, he’ll stay for a night or two. 

The tour where my dreams came true had ended a little over a month ago, a smashing success. The label was happy, the fans were elated, and Fight the Good Fight’s pockets were lined even more handsomely. Despite everything going well for the group, the only thing I had been focused on was my new relationship with my first every daddy. 

It was incredible now naturally Kent had taken to the role. Though having no prior experience with caregiving, his basic personality was perfectly tuned to look after me. A week after returning from the tour was their first time meeting outside of the context of their work together, and while Iwas having trouble entering my full headspace, I still found it easy to be Kent’s little spoon, Walter tucked under one arm, Blankie in the other. 

A few days later was when I finally found the courage to enjoy a paci in my boyfriend’s presence. Though I was actively resisting the notion, Kent remembered which one was my favorite, washed it off, and presented it to me before drawing me into a close cuddle. 

I let out a sigh, my breath fogging up the window. I thought about what was to come tonight. We would get to the bar down the street at around 11:30, return to my flat after a couple hours, and get changed by Kent for the very first time. 

I rest my head against the window, the excitement giving way to anxiety. Though I have been out for some time, this was clearly the next level in our relationship. What would he think? Would he find it cute? Would it be too weird for him and break it off with me? 

I get up and returns to my bedroom, checking to make sure that everything is in order. Changing mat on the bed? Check. Favorite pajamas? Check. Assortment of pacis for Daddy to choose from? Bubble bath soap? Check. Fresh…. diaper…? Check. No sooner did I complete my inventory when I heard the doorbell ring. This was the moment of truth. 

I closed my bedroom door on the way to the front door, taking a deep breath before unlocking it. A familiar face greeted me on the other side. 

“Hey kiddo! It’s cold as hell out there.” 

A sigh of relief leave me, relief setting in. 

“I missed you, Daddy…” 

“And I, you, Jei.” 

He draws he into a soft hug, his massive form enveloping my frame as he gently runs his fingers through my hair. 

“Did you want me to come in for a second, hun?” 

“Sure! I just need to get my shoes and coat on.” 

I usher him in as he remains in my entryway, not wanting to track snow onto my flooring. 

After stepping away for a moment, I return with his thick, black hoodie that I could barely fit into; the one that smelled most like Kent when he offered me a ‘boyfriend sweatshirt’. 

“Uh… no. Nice try, little one, but you need something warmer than that tonight!” 

“B-but, what…?” 

Kent gives me a playfully sly look, implying that he is indeed serious. 

“I’m serious, sweetie! I don’t want you catching a cold or anything” he adds with a wink. 

“I… okaaaay.” 

“Okay  _who_? ” 

“Okay…  _Daddy_ !” I chirp back happily, his intentions now clear.

“ That’s a good boy!” 

The words cut me deep, causing a deep shudder to shoot through me while I’m in the coat closet. Oof. That was the good stuff, right there. 

I return to the front door with a black parka in-hand, a soft fur-lined hood up to my face. 

With a pinch of my cheeks, Kent comments “Much more appropriate for a little boy like you!” 

I blush deep red as I involuntarily let out a giggle and crumble into his arms. 

“Ready to go, Jei?” 

I nuzzle gently into his form chest. “Yes daddy”, I exhale happily. 

“Need changies before we head down?” 

“I........” 

I collapse further into him as I hear his deep, low voice crooning into my ear between massive heartbeats. 

“You heard me, little one!” he retorts slyly, gently turning me around, my butt to his groin and back to his abs. With a loving touch his gives my princely-parts a check and a pat. 

“I... I’m dry, dadddyyyy...” 

“Sure are, champ! Guess you are ready!” 

I pull my shirt as far down as it can stretch, covering up the very obvious padding bulge between the legs of my skinny jeans. Kent ruffles my hair with a chuckle as he stoops to my level. 

“Daddy’s going to make sure no one can see his baby boy’s diapie, okay Jei-Jei? You’ll have your pretty parka on in the car over and you can keep it on your lap in the restaurant. Daddy needs to make sure you don’t have any accidents tonight, okay little one?” 

After giving my fully regressed brain a second to process his words, I nod childishly with a big, dumb, cute smile and hug him again. 

“There’s my good boy! Now come along now, Daddy’s famished!” 

_______________ 

Miraculously, we didn’t cross any of my neighbours on our way down the freight elevator, and managed to hail a cab readily. Though I insisted we could walk the two blocks to the club, Ke-….  _Daddy _ convinced me that royalty doesn’t walk, especially in the snow. My Vans thanked him. 

Our destination was in one of the blocks of the Cleveland flats that had been touched by gentrification. A shiny new club called 

After a silent cab ride, Kent and I stood in front of the door of  _W25_ , a shiny new establishment overlooking Whiskey Island and Lake Erie. A bouncer about twice my size (and a quarter larger than Kent…) guarded the entrance from a line of popped collars and micro-skirts. 

“You doing okay there, sweet heart?” Kent asks as he snuck a hand to ruffle my hair reassuringly. 

Fixing my bangs playfully, I retort “Of course! There’s just… a lot of people here…” 

“And that’s why we’re going to find a nice, small table in the corner to enjoy our drinks!” 

With a pat on the arm, we hold hands walking towards the bouncer, disgruntled patrons protesting our line-jumping until I remove my hood. 

“Excuse me”, Kent starts. “We’d love entry to your establishment, sir.” 

The indomitable mountain that is the bouncer pears over the rim of his aviators to get a closer look at him, and then me. 

A bass voice asks, “You’re in that one band, aren’t you.” 

I confirm with a nervous nod of my head. 

Concealing his eyes behind his shades once more, he beckons us in, no resistance from the crowd. Behind me, I think I hear a camera click, but I try my best to remove the thought from my mind. 

Inside, packs of humans are milling about in thick clusters. I tighten my grip on Kent’s hand as he cuts through the crowd towards the bar. Making our way up, he suddenly slips his strong hands underneath my armpits and lifts me up onto a barstool, causing a soft giggle to escape my lips. The spirits-filled customers on either of our sides make note of the sudden appearance of a giant hugging his tiny boy from behind. 

“What’ll it be, boys?” a that girl that couldn’t have been much older and me asks. Giving me a closer look, she looks to Kent and asks “Is the kid 21?” 

I go digging for my ID while I feel Kent’s giggle in his gut behind me. “Technically, yes!” he laughs, giving my padded butt a soft pat. 

Presenting the eyebrow-raised bartender with my driver’s license, she looks at me, then back to the card, then back to me. Squinting at my name, she asks “You’re Jei Evans, huh? From Fight The Good Fight?” 

Again, I sheepishly nod. 

“I’ll tell the DJ to put something on for you, kid. First rounds’ on me.” she say with a wink. 

I look up to Kent with a big stupid grin, who returns the look to me. 

“A GLB Burning River for me, and a Not Your Father's for Jei here, please!” I hear accompanied by a loving pat on my shoulder. 

With drinks in-hand, I once again grip Kent’s hand as we make our way a booth against the back wall. 

“Princes first!” he whispers in my ear, helping me with my drink and coat. As I bend down to slide in, he wraps the parka around me waist, covering my whole waistband. With that security, I slide into the deep back of the seating and make myself comfortable. 

As Kent scoots into place next to me, I take in my surroundings. From my vantage point, I can see the entire room, the sound isn’t too overwhelming, and I feel… safe? That’s a nice feeling when in public! Fuck, I love Daddy… 

“Bottoms up, hey Jei?” 

“Indeed, love!” 

We knock back the necks of our bottles and seal off our first sips with a hopsy kiss. 

Another camera flash strikes like lightning in the dimly lit club as our lips lock. 

“Kent, I uh…” 

“I saw it, Jei… do you want me to say something?” 

“No, I mean, I’m out and have been for a little bit now. It’s not like it’s a secret…” 

“Just startled by the flash, little one?” 

“Y-yeah…” 

He puts a hand on my shoulder to draw me close to him and I rest my head against his pec. Another flash goes off. 

“It’s alright, Jei. I’ve got you…” 

A slim figure approaches us wearing a camera with an AP press laminate pinned to the lanyard. 

“Jei Evans? From FTGF? Hi, we did a photoshoot a while back for an AP cover, do you remember? Is this your boyfriend, Jei?” 

My stress level rises. I try my best to maintain a good relationship with fans and the press, trying to always come off in a positive and polite manner in strict opposition to the Rock n’ Roll attitude one would expect. 

“Jei?” 

Of course I don’t remember this person, they’re just another nameless face in the music industry, a photographer that shills prints to local bands and scoops to their publications. 

“Any word on a new album? Maybe another tour?” 

“Hey, Jei is feeling pretty overwh—“ 

“Excuse me, I’m talking to J—“ 

“Excuse YOU, Jei is feeling overwhelmed, please stop.” 

My legs are bouncing, I’m scratching at the holes in my jeans, I’m visibly breathing faster, this isn’t what I want printed. I’m coming off as rude, everyone is going to hate me, I’m such as assh- 

“Shhh, you’re okay, Jei…” 

I love this man. His soothing voice calms my nerves as he cups his hands over my ears, giving me momentary reprieve from the onslaught on sensory input. 

Like a father shielding their child from a saucy conversation, Kent uses his polite-yet-firm tone on the reporter. Though I can’t hear exactly, I’m pretty sure it translates to normal English as “Piss off, you’re giving my boyfriend a panic attack.” 

The reporter returns eye contact to me as I immediately break it off again, choosing to inspect the individual buttons on Kent’s jacket. As the media drone walks away, Kent grants me my hearing again. 

“You alright, kiddo?” 

“Yeah… thank you.” I respond lovingly, nuzzling against his chest. He lets out a breath of relief. 

“Good. You handled that really well, and Daddy’s very proud!” he adds, a bit quieter this time. 

I resist the need to fuss as he chuckles. 

“Now, about these drinks!” 

“Y… yeah! Prost, love!” 

“Cheers, love!” he responds through a sly smile and a wink. 


End file.
